


the gold

by Syain



Category: PAYDAY (Video Games)
Genre: M/M, also dallas/hoxton is a bit more 'hi you need squint to see it' but it's there, and i have never tried to surf on a glass table before, but they don't really play a big role on this, i also can't write long fics, let's play pretend, look i tried to write something nice tm for christmas, mentions of other crew members - Freeform, secret sa(d)nta 2k18, so i dunno if you can knock it over by doing that but, unless somebody wants to do it and tell me the result
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-24 18:46:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17106122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Syain/pseuds/Syain
Summary: secret sa(d)nta 2k18 for velariuss on tumblr! i had a lot of fun writing this, and i hope you enjoy it as well!





	the gold

**Author's Note:**

> the title is comes from leningrad's song with the same name, because i need to listen to something on repeat when writing apparently.

December was a busy month.

Money was changing hands rapidly, the mill of capitalism grinding people up and spitting them out, bleeding their wallets dry. It was the end of the year, piss cold and people wanted to spend their time in the warm embrace of family.

December was a brutal month.

It sunk its teeth into people and tore them apart.

It had snowed briefly two days ago. Whatever remained of the snow had turned into a brown slush, a disgusting reminder of the changes ripping through the world. Dallas’ memories of crystal white and undisturbed snow were foggy at best. It was memories that belonged to somebody else, somebody he couldn’t be anymore – perhaps somebody he never had been to begin with. It almost felt intrusive trying to recall them.

Christmas had over the years faded into the back of Dallas’ mind. It hadn’t truly meant anything to him, not until the crew decided they wanted to throw a Christmas party. At first, Dallas had been hesitant about it but slowly warmed up to it. Nothing could go too terribly wrong, could it? It had just been the four of them; him, Chains, Hoxton and Wolf. It had brought them closer together in a way, strengthened their bond.  

It became a tradition, although a strained one, when Hoxton was in prison.

When more people slowly joined the gang, everything grew with it. More food was brought to the table, more cultural Christmas traditions and gift giving happened.

Dallas found himself enjoying it. It had become a fixed point in their existence as thieves, bank robbers and wanted men.

Now the safehouse looked like the bombing of Jerusalem after Christmas Eve, and this time it was no different. The dining table was littered with pieces of food, dirty dishes and half empty glasses. A pile of wrapping paper had taken up residence in the sink.  

Laughter and singing carried up from the common living area, as Dallas inspected the mess that’d have to be cleaned up eventually. He felt content in his own way being up here alone.

He went to open one of the windows before leaning against the windowsill, as he produced a crumbled pack of cigarettes. He lit one of them and took a slow drag. The movements of smoking were almost mechanical. He could make out the shrill voice of Sydney before laughter boomed from the crew. It made him smile.

“Well, ain’t you a stick in the mud?”

Dallas rolled his eyes, half turning to face Hoxton who had ascended the stairs. He gave a shrug before turning to look out of the window again. The otherwise colorful landscape outside had been voided of color.

“You know, it’s a rare trait to be able to enjoy your own company,” Dallas countered before handing the cigarette to Hoxton, who took a drag before handing it back.

“Yeah, yeah, you fuckin’ twat. Whatever makes you sleep at night,” Hoxton replied fondly before gently bumping Dallas’ shoulder with his own.

A comfortable silence settled between them for a moment, both looking out of the window, sharing what remained of Dallas’ cigarette.

“You know…” Dallas started out slowly, “… it’s good to have you back. I know I’ve said it a lot, but… I mean it, alright?”

“I bloody well know. I am a fucking delight, of course you are all lucky to have me back,” Hoxton snickered, though something softened in those eyes of his. It brought a warm smile to Dallas’ face.

They were both men with regrets, but moments like these made it more bearable. Easier to digest what they had been through together, the pain they had caused each other, both knowingly and unknowingly.

Both men turned their head when they heard Clover yell and the sound of glass breaking.

“So much for that glass table,” Dallas mumbled, killing the embers of the cigarette before flickering the butt out of the window.

“Oi, what are you bloody wankers doing down there?” Hoxton yelled, having moved over to the railing. Both hands held onto it for dear life as he leaned forward.

“Bodhi tried to surf on the glass table, slipped and managed to knock it over,” Chains yelled back up, as Houston tried to contain the damage.

“That is a merry Christmas if I have ever gotten one,” Dallas said as he walked past Hoxton, patting his shoulder. “Come on, buddy. Let’s help those idiots out before we need to drive them to the hospital.”  


End file.
